Game On
by Ketterly
Summary: Angelus challenges Spike to play a game with him, but it turns into something different.  Contains corporal punishment, so please don't read if that doesn't interest you.


_This is not my standard fare. It is my first attempt at a story featuring Angelus and Spike. It isn't slash, per se, but it does contain caning, and it isn't very nice, so please skip it if that's not your thing._

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"Psst! William! William, wake up," Angelus whispered, jabbing him roughly in the ribs.

"What? What do you want?" Spike murmured sleepily as he snuggled more firmly into Drusilla's bosom.

"Wake up," Angelus repeated. "Come on. We're going to have a bit of fun."

"I'm having fun here," Spike complained, refusing to open his eyes.

"My patience with you wears thin, William," Angelus said sternly, pulling him by one arm. His slight frame slid easily across the satin sheets. "You will rise at once."

"All right, all right," Spike whispered, latching onto Angelus' arm and catching himself just before he'd have fallen in a heap to the floor. "What is it, then? What's so bloody important? And is there any actual blood involved?"

"Ah, that's the spirit!" Angelus said heartily. He wrapped his arm around Spike's shoulders and ushered him toward the door. "I've a game I want us to play."

"Just the two of us?" Spike said warily as he gently shut the door of the cottage behind them. "Shall we bring the girls?"

"This is men's business!" Angelus declared proudly. "You and I, William. Come."

"Where are we going?" Spike asked, excited by the prospect of a bit of fun now that he was more awake in the cool night air.

"The schoolhouse," Angelus answered enthusiastically. "It's marvelous."

"The schoolhouse," Spike repeated, disappointed. "What for? There won't be any children there to eat; it is the middle of the night."

"Must you question everything I say, William?" Angelus grumbled, squeezing Spike rather firmly by the back of the neck and pushing him forward in the direction of the school.

"Ow!" Spike said automatically, trying to shake free. "Lay off."

"In you go," Angelus directed, shoving him directly at the front door of the one room schoolhouse.

"I guess no one lives here, then," Spike commented, looking around the darkened, dusty room as he rubbed at his neck. "Or we couldn't have entered."

"Yes, well, you can thank me for that, as I've just eaten the schoolmaster," Angelus boasted.

"Oh, nice," Spike said appreciatively. "How was he?"

"Delicious," Angelus replied, fondly recalling the incident. "Drunk on wine and power."

"You would know a thing or two about that," Spike muttered, nodding.

"Aye," Angelus answered, not at all perturbed by the disparaging remark.

"What've we come here for, then, Angelus?" Spike asked. "There are no children, and I doubt you bothered to save me a drink of the master..."

"Here!" Angelus proclaimed, yanking with a flourish a sheet from something in the corner.

"A chess board?" Spike asked, examining it indifferently. "You dragged me from between Dru's breasts to play chess with you?"

"Sit!" Angelus ordered, retrieving one of the student chairs from its neat little row and slamming it down beside the board.

Spike laughed heartily at the tiny chair but did as Angelus bid him, sinking with exaggerated care onto the little seat. He watched as Angelus procured the schoolmaster's chair for himself.

"Hey!" he protested lightly. "How come you get the big chair?"

"Because," Angelus replied importantly as he set up his pieces. "You are the pupil."

"And let me guess," Spike commented, following Angelus' lead and setting up, attempting to ignore the fact that the diminutive chair made him eye level with the board. "You're the bloody headmaster?"

"See, you're not so stupid as they say," Angelus replied.

"'They' who?" Spike demanded. "Who says I'm stupid?"

"Never you mind," Angelus answered, making his first move.

"I'm White," Spike pointed out. "White goes first. You _do_ know _how_ to play, don't you?"

"Very well," Angelus grumbled, grabbing hold of the entire board and twisting it around. He set it down roughly, and the pieces shook but didn't fall. "Now you're Black."

Angelus refused to restart the game, however, and made Spike watch as he made two moves in a row to get caught up.

"Are you sure you want to go there?" Spike teased once he realized that Angelus had no clue what he was doing.

Angelus glared and abandoned that move, hastily making another.

"Excellent," Spike said. "Checkmate."

"What?" Angelus exclaimed angrily. "You tricked me!"

"I did no such thing," Spike commented innocently. "I didn't force your hand, did I? Go again?"

Angelus glared at him fiercely as he roughly reset his game. Spike smirked.

"Your go, then," he prompted.

Angelus tentatively slid a pawn forward, and Spike made a noise in the back of his throat. Angelus smiled smugly and hurriedly continued with every move that Spike discouraged, thinking he'd surely outsmarted him at his own game of deceit.

"Checkmate, mate," Spike soon commented.

"What?" Angelus roared, standing angrily and turning the entire board over onto the wooden schoolhouse floor. "You're a cheat! You dare to cheat in this holy place!"

"Um... Schools aren't holy, exactly, I don't think," Spike said, bemused. "But I did not cheat, Angelus. You just need a little more practice is all. I can show you some moves if you'd like."

"I would not like," Angelus said through clenched teeth. "Not only do you soil this house of learning with your deceitful trickery, but you dare defy the headmaster in his own domain?"

"Riiight," Spike said slowly, locking eyes with Angelus from his position in the tiny chair, unsure if he really wanted to play this game. "Let's just go back to the cottage, mate. I'm sure Darla will give you a consolation prize."

Angelus stepped forward and landed an open-handed slap as hard as he could across Spike's face, causing him to immediately vamp out and leap to his feet.

"Watch it!" he shouted, outraged. "What was that for?"

"Insolence," Angelus answered simply, importantly drawing himself up to his full height. He'd found what must have been the dead headmaster's cloak and fastened it loosely around his own shoulders. "No schoolboy is allowed to speak in that manner to the headmaster. You should know better, William, being a properly educated boy yourself."

"You do realize you're not actually the headmaster, Angelus? You're just drunk off him," Spike said, rubbing at his cheek as his face returned to normal. "And that's the only reason I'm not bludgeoning you with your own arm as we speak. Come on. Let's go."

"The only place you're going is to the front of the class," Angelus replied calmly.

"Come again?" Spike asked.

Angelus strode to the now deceased schoolmaster's desk and acquired a piece of chalk. He turned and drew a circle on the small piece of slate attached to the wall behind him.

"Your nose in the circle, please, William," he directed, tapping the chalk down smartly beside his drawing.

Spike smirked. He was a little bit intrigued, in spite of himself, with the turn Angelus' game had taken.

"Oh, but please, Headmaster, I shan't do it again," he begged, keeping his tone bored. "Pray don't punish me in front of the class."

"Insolent boy!" Angelus replied with sparkling eyes, plainly delighted at Spike's willingness to engage him. "You'll do as I say at once or suffer my wrath!"

"Oh no, not your wrath, sir, anythin' but—" Spike started, but was interrupted as Angelus grasped him round the neck and forced his nose to the chalk board.

"Angelus," Spike laughed, maintaining his position. "We can't do this all night, mate. Come on. Let's get back to the girls."

"Quiet!" Angelus thundered. "And it appears your nose doesn't quite reach the circle. You'll have to go up on your toes, then, to make it so. That'll be ever so uncomfortable. Pity for you."

"Angelus, I've grown weary of this. I'm not going—"

Angelus gripped him by the back of his neck yet again and physically stretched him upwards until his nose reached the circle.

"Move from that position, and it'll be the strap for young William," Angelus cooed menacingly in his ear.

"I've told you, it's 'Spike' now," Spike protested, but held his new, uncomfortable position. "And it's going to be the fist for old Angelus if he doesn't cut it out soon."

"What's going on in here?" Drusilla asked, her slow, whining voice wafting in from the doorway. "Why've you gone and left me all alone?"

"Dru, love," Spike greeted. He attempted to go to her, but Angelus pinned him to the chalk board by his neck.

"Yes, Dru, love," Angelus mocked happily. "I do believe you're just in time."

"Let me go, Angelus," Spike said, growing agitated. "This isn't fun anymore."

"On the contrary," Angelus replied. "I do believe my fun has just begun!"

"Oooooh," Drusilla exclaimed, drawing nearer to them and dropping primly into a student's desk. "What fun are you going to have, Daddy?"

"It seems young William here refuses to learn his lessons," Angelus said, applying more pressure to Spike's neck. "And we can't have that, now can we?"

"My Spike has been a naughty boy?" Dru asked with wide eyes, clapping her hands together excitedly. "You must punish him, then, Daddy! You must!"

"Let. Me. Go," Spike demanded through clenched teeth.

"Uh uh uh," Angelus chided, continuing to hold him by the nape of his neck as if he were a puppy. "Not until the headmaster has given you your lashes."

"You listen to me, you great foolish oaf," Spike spat. "First off, you're not a headmaster, and I'm not a pupil. Secondly, no way in hell am I going to allow you to lash me just because you're rubbish at chess. And thirdly, we're in London, not Ireland. They don't use a strap here. If anything, it would be a cane, you bleeding idiot."

"Would it now?" Angelus asked, his eyes sweeping the room. "Felt the cane, have you, William?"

"Of course I've felt the cane," Spike replied nonchalantly to the chalk board.

"Aye, I'm sure you were a true hellion," Angelus said sarcastically. "Drusilla, do be a dear and fetch me that basket from the corner."

"What now?" Spike said, craning his neck to take a look. "Basket? Basket of what?"

"Of canes, of course," Angelus replied.

"No!" Spike protested angrily. "No, Angelus, you sick, sadistic bastard! Absolutely not!"

"Now, now," Angelus soothed, his voice low and chilling. "I knew de Sade, and I assure you he had nothing on me."

"Dru, love," Spike said, changing tactics. "There won't be any need for those, after all."

"I'm sorry, Spike, but I fear I must do as the headmaster wishes," Drusilla said, obediently retrieving the basket for Angelus and depositing it on the teacher's desk. She pulled out a long rattan cane and swished it through the air experimentally. "Oooh, this one, Headmaster Daddy!"

"Dru!" Spike exclaimed indignantly.

"Yes, Drusilla, that will be all. You may return to your seat now," Angelus said as he took it from her, his voice all business.

"Thank you, Headmaster, sir," she replied, curtseying to him before returning to her tiny desk, where she bounced up and down in gleeful anticipation.

"Angelus, I swear, I am going to break every bone in your miserable body," Spike threatened, squirming furiously in a vain attempt to escape. "Some of them twice, if you don't stop this immediately."

"William, tsk tsk," Angelus clucked. "Speaking to the headmaster so! I guess that will be extra strokes for you."

Before Spike could reply, Angelus lashed the rattan down hard across the middle of his back. Spike shrieked in pure agony and his face shifted to vampire form.

"That's not even how you do it!" he protested shrilly. "You stupid Paddy, I will rip your eyes from their sockets! You release me this instant or I swear to you—"

Angelus chuckled and landed a cane stroke diagonally across Spike's shoulders, sending him into a torrent of angry obscenities.

"Headmaster?" Drusilla asked, raising her hand politely to be recognized. "Is William allowed to use those terms in the classroom?"

"I should say not!" Angelus exclaimed. "I daresay his shirt will lay in tatters by the time we've finished."

"You bloody imbecile!" Spike yelled, shaking his head roughly as his face returned to normal. "You don't cane someone across the shoulders! You cane them across the arse!"

"Oh, _pardon me_, William," Angelus said nastily. "I suppose it is your trousers that are destined to lay in tatters, then."

Angelus adjusted his aim and landed several fast, vicious strokes to the seat of Spike's trousers. Spike howled furiously and put his hands back to stop the onslaught, but Angelus just lashed them as well.

"I think I've got the hang of it now," Angelus said brightly.

"Stop it! Stop right now!" Spike demanded. "I'll light your hair afire in your sleep and piss on your bloody head to put it out!"

Angelus laughed with genuine delight and continued the caning, hitting harder and lower down Spike's legs.

"We may need to rid you of these, William," he said lightly, reaching out and tugging gently on one of Spike's trouser legs. "I need to see my handiwork. Can't have you really damaged, now can we?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy, damage him!" Drusilla exclaimed, gnashing her teeth. "Damage him! I do so love it when you break my toys!"

"Dru, darling, you're speaking out of turn," Spike said, deciding the game would probably end faster if he just played along. "You don't want the headmaster to be cross with you as well, do you?"

"Oh, the headmaster always spanks me across his knees," Drusilla replied giddily, laughing and swaying from side to side.

"What?" Spike demanded. "The headmaster does wha—Ow! Bloody hell, Angelus! I've learned my lesson, all right?"

"Beg for me, William," Angelus instructed, continuing the viciously low strokes across his thighs. "Beg for me, and perhaps we'll stop."

"Sod off, you filthy piece of Irish vermin!" Spike spat vehemently. "I'll not beg you for anything, you blithering, featherbrained simpleton! Ow! Ow! Ow! All right! All right!"

"Tell me you're sorry," Angelus almost crooned.

"I'm sorry," Spike murmured softly.

"Speak up," Angelus ordered.

"I said I'm bloody sorry," Spike said testily.

"For?" Angelus prompted.

"For Christ's sake," Spike sputtered. "For … Uh … The um..."

Angelus applied three quick cane strokes, one on top of the other, directly to the middle of his backside, and Spike groaned loudly.

"Holy Mother," he said, grimacing and holding onto his bottom.

"Try again," Angelus said, tapping the tip of the cane warningly on Spike's thigh.

"Oh! Oh, I remember!" Spike said joyfully. "The game! I'm sorry you suffered such an amazing chess defeat at my hands!"

"Incorrect," Angelus proclaimed, aiming three cuts of the cane up Spike's left thigh only, then moving to his other side to do the right in the same fashion.

"Argh! I'm sorry I _cheated_ at chess," Spike corrected. "All right?"

"I don't recall any begging," Angelus said, humming softly and tapping out the beat of the tune on Spike's trousers.

"Shall I sing it with you, Daddy?" Drusilla offered helpfully.

"That's all right, Dru," Angelus said easily. "I think we're almost done here. Aren't we, little Willie?"

"I bloody _told_ you that I bloody _hate_ when you bloody _call_ me that," Spike growled.

"Then say your penance," Angelus instructed.

Spike sighed deeply and slapped the slate in front of him with both hands before swallowing his pride.

"I beg you, _Headmaster _Angelus," he bit out slowly, "to please show me lenience. I am very sorry that I _cheated _at chess. I've learnt my lesson and I swear upon the old headmaster's grave that I will never do it again."

"There," Angelus said, apparently satisfied with the apology. "Twelve more strokes and I think we're finished. Drop your trousers."

"What?" Spike said incredulously. "You can't—I don't—what are you playing at, Angelus? I bloody begged you already!"

"Twelve more," Angelus repeated. "Trousers down."

Spike huffed loudly before giving in and shoving his trousers roughly to his knees.

"Hmm. That has to go," Angelus said simply as he reached down and tugged Spike's long underwear to his knees as well.

"Just get it over with," Spike said, gritting his teeth.

"Oooh, can he count them, Headmaster?" Drusilla asked. "I think he should be made to count them out!"

"Dru!" Spike yelled. "You're enjoying this too much!"

"Can he count that high?" Angelus asked with a smirk.

"Count bloody higher than you," Spike muttered. "Hurry up."

Spike grimaced and groaned his way through twelve cruel stripes—Angelus mercifully did not force him to count them aloud, but he kept track in his head just in case the bastard tried to do more—before hastily doing up his trousers and jerking the cane from Angelus' hand and snapping it into three pieces. He repeated the gesture with the other two in the basket.

"What did you do that for?" Angelus asked, laughing and twirling Drusilla around the room.

"The children, they … They shouldn't have to endure that. Besides, what do you care?" Spike asked. "You've already eaten their professor."

"Did you really, Daddy?" Drusilla squealed with delight and admiration.

"Aye," Angelus confirmed, nodding pompously.

Spike pushed the window open and tossed the rattan twigs out into the dirt.

"Let's go," he said, leading the way.

"I enjoyed our game, William," Angelus said, smiling wickedly as he followed him with Drusilla clinging to his waist. "Did you?"

"I'm never playing with you again," Spike sniffed petulantly.

"Never?" Angelus asked, feigning hurt.

"Don't fuss, Spike," Drusilla said, stroking his hair. "It'll only hurt for a little while. Then it'll start to feel good. You'll see."

"Well, then," Spike said, smirking past Drusilla at Angelus. "Maybe we'll see."


End file.
